


The Barista's Admirer

by Fweeble



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shop, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, loosely based off Audrey Niffenegger's book "The Time Traveler's Wife"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-18
Updated: 2013-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-25 22:40:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/643722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fweeble/pseuds/Fweeble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim’s very suspicious of the boy who keeps proposing to him. Sometimes he looks five, sometimes he looks seven, and there are times Tim swears he’s also the fifteen year old who stares at his ass all the time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Barista's Admirer

Pouring and mixing caffeinated beverages for the bleary eyed corporate businessmen and bubble-gum popping youth of America isn’t exactly what Tim would call his dream job, but any job beats no job at all. Things could be worse –he could be working for a soulless coffee chain like Starbucks as a mindless coffee drone. The Four Leaf Clover is small, local, and pays his rent and school bills without compromising his integrity.  
  
Tim will only admit to being a yuppie under extreme torture.   
  
All in all, the atmosphere is nice and cozy and Alfred, the manager and owner of the store, lets him do his homework and projects during slow hours when there can be twenty-minute lulls without a single customer. It’s the ideal environment for a working art student like him.   
  
The only problem is that there’s this queer kid who likes coming into the store, and always when there is a lull and Tim isn’t making fifteen cups of espressos and lattes at once. When asked for his order, it’s always the same.  
  
“When I’m twenty-five, will you marry me?”  
  
At first, it’s kind of cute. Then it gets worrying when it continues for over a month and the boy never looks quite the same. Sometimes he looks five, sometimes he looks seven, and there are times Tim swears he’s also the fifteen year old who stares at his ass all the time. By the third week, Tim’s feeling anxious, twitchy, and paranoid. After the first month passes, Tim thinks he’s one more creepy kid appearance away from unceremoniously moving into Conner’s apartment because he’s starting to see the kid everywhere.  
  
Things change a bit a month and a half after the boy’s first appearance. Tim’s wiping down the counter as the boy peers at him over the counter –this time, he looks about ten –curious and contemplative. Tim reminds himself that despite the large green eyes and cute little nose, the boy is a scary stalker with a strange fluctuating age disorder and therefore is in no way adorable at all.   
  
“I haven’t seen you date anyone. Well, not date-date. I never see you with the same person more than a few times. That means you’re not going steady, right?”  
  
It doesn’t matter how down and out his love life is, he’s not discussing it with a kid. Sure his dating experiences have been disappointing at best and horrifying at worst –there was the guy who was a little too interested in condiments, the girl who all but shoved him onto the bed and demanded to be ravaged, and the terrible attempt to date long-time crush Dick –but it’s not like his lack of a long, committed relationship is his fault. It’s also not a nosy kid’s business.  
  
“So why not marry me when I’m twenty-five?”  
  
Ah, there it is; the thirty-seventh proposal. Always predictable.   
  
“I’ll be thirty-five and still too old for you.”  
  
The boy scrunches his nose –and Tim doesn’t notice how his lower lip juts out adorably, not at all.  
  
“Will not. Besides, I’m older.”  
  
In what reality is a ten year old older than a twenty year old?  
  
“Sure you are,” Tim lilts, “Would you like some marshmallows with your hot chocolate?”  
  
He takes the blown raspberry as a ‘Yes, please’ and adds some to the rapidly cooling cup of hot chocolate.  
  
“Drink it before it goes cold,” he scolds. Cold hot chocolate is completely unacceptable.   
  
“Excuse me, I’d like an espresso?”   
  
Tim blinks up at the customer –oh, he’s got lovely eyes and those shoulders are…sculpted.   
  
“Sure. No problem. I’ll… go make that.”   
  
It’s not that Tim means to eavesdrop, but the two of them don’t really seem to know the meaning of discreet either.  
  
“What’re you doing here?”  
  
“I live here, twerp. Wait thirteen years.”  
  
“I got here  _first_.”  
  
 “I was here thirteen years ago.”  
  
“Oh shut up.”  
  
“Uhm, excuse me, sir. Here’s your espresso.”  
  
—  
  
It’s a week of Cute Guy With Dimples When He Smiles coming in every day before Tim learns that his name is Jason. He really shouldn’t let himself get too interested in the man because with his taste, he’s going to turn out to be some kind of freakish stalker who will kill him in his sleep. His track record is just that bad. And, if he’s honest with himself, Tim’s starting to worry about the mysterious,  _missing_  age-dyslexic boy because he’s starting to finally get used to the impromptu appearances and it’s been eleven days since he was last in the coffee house.   
  
He’s cleaning out some of the coffee filters when he hears his name called.  
  
“Jason?”  
  
The boy seems quite pleased and looks just a bit older than when Tim last saw him. “Will you marry me?”  
  
“For the last time, no! I don’t even know your name!”  
  
And it’s kind of startling how he doesn’t know the name of the boy who has spent over a month proposing to him but already knows the name of a man he doesn’t exactly flirt with, but eyes appreciatively.   
  
The look of hurt that flits across his face when he says causes a horrible, nasty feeling to overcome him. He’s left staring at the swinging door and the realization that this is the first time he’s ever seen the boy leave.  
  
When Jason walks in at seven that evening, Tim is still nursing his guilty conscience and is in no mood to bat his eyes coquettishly at the other man. He still can’t believe how cruel he’s been –the boy has always been so earnest and he’s never even bothered to learn his name. If he was the boy, he’d be at home, hating the douche who never bothered to learn his name (after a  _month_ ) on principle alone.  
  
He plasters on a smile in time to greet Jason, because he is nothing if not professional, and politely asks for his order while mentally listing the ingredients of the other man’s usual order.  
  
“What’s bothering you?”  
  
“Nothing. Your order?”  
  
“C’mmon Tim, you can tell me,” Jason cajoles and dammit, those green eyes shouldn’t make him as weak-kneed as they do. “I promise it’ll be our little secret.”  
  
“It’s nothing. Your usual?” He gets started on the man’s coffee before he answers. His shift ends soon and maybe he can go home and hate himself over a cup of tea and a take-out dinner.   
  
“Tim, look at me, what’s going on?”  
  
There’s something in the voice –genuine concern? –that makes him stop, turn around with the man’s half-finished cup of java and tell him.  
  
“I’m an ass, okay? There’s this kid and –it’s been over a month and I never bothered to learn his name –I mean, what kind of jerk doesn’t –“ He sets down the cup and runs his hand over his face. “I just feel like I kicked a puppy.”  
  
The man looks thoughtful. “I guess I should be expecting a visit later tonight.”  
  
Tim looks at him incredulously and the man just smiles and takes the unfinished cup and pays.  
  
“Don’t worry Tim. He’ll be fine. Just ask for his name the next time you see him.”  
  
—  
  
With Conner Kent as his best friend, Tim has seen many strange things, but he’s bowled over when he finds a three year old wandering around town as naked as a blue jay. He quickly bundles up the child in his jacket and asks for his name and where his parents are. The boy just looks up at him, terrified and mumbles, “Jason.”  
  
Tim blinks down at the small, terrified child and tries to smile reassuringly at the boy.   
  
“That’s a great name. I know someone named Jason. I bet you’ll grow up big just like him.”  
  
When the boy disappears, it’s sudden and Tim is left with his jacket clutched in his hands and the image of a terrified child in his mind.   
  
—  
  
“I can’t believe all the things people lose in this place,” Tim huffs as he picks up a pair of shoes and underwear in the bathroom, “We find everything from shirts to shoes in this place. It’s ridiculous.”  
  
Alfred just smiles wryly at him and polishes a few more coffee mugs. “The youth these days. If only they wore more belts.”  
  
“Suspenders are all the rage these days,” Tim laughs as he drops some more clothes in the lost and found box.   
  
It’s really starting to bother him, though, all these articles of clothing that continues to turn up in strange places. What are the customers doing? They better not be doing anything illicit, because some of these clothes are the size of a five year old.   
  
No one claims the clothing and Alfred often takes them down to the army surplus for donation. They should probably start enforcing strict rules on garment conduct if this continues any longer. It’s worrisome.   
  
Tim is still contemplating this as he cleans a table when he hears the door open.  
  
“Welcome! The owner’s in the back, but if you wait a few minutes, I can brew something up for you.”  
  
“Thanks, Tim.”  
  
“Oh, Jason. Just gimme a moment.”  
  
He barely manages to tie on his apron when the door opens and the boy appears again.   
  
“Hey there,” he smiles, “You’re looking considering younger than when I last saw you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re a time traveler.”  
  
The boy smiles toothily at him, “You remember me, mister? You gave me your coat.”  
  
“When?”  
  
“It was the first time it happened. I was so scared and you gave me your coat. It was so warm.”  
  
“That was –that was a few days ago.”  
  
 _‘Just ask for his name the next time you see him.’_  
  
“What’s your name?” he asks, shooting Jason a nervous look. Jason just grins and leans against the counter.   
  
“Jason.”  
  
“I’ve been meeting a lot of Jasons lately.”  
  
The boy waves excitedly at Jason –the man –behind him. “No, just me.”  
  
Jason waves back at the small boy. “Hey.”  
  
Tim’s nervously making hot chocolate for the kid because –what is this? Time traveling? Conner’s going to die laughing or check him into a mental institution because this is all sorts of insane and impossible.   
  
“Here, some hot chocolate,” he offers the boy –little Jason? –with the marshmallows he is so fond of.   
  
“Yummy,” there’s just a beat and then the boy tilts his head at him owlishly, “Will you marry me?”  
  
“No. You’re too young to get married.”   
  
How many times will he have this conversation?  
  
“How about when I’m older? Like. When I’m twenty five?”  
  
“I’ll think about it,” he relents. Maybe it’s because of how young he looks, or maybe it’s the way the boy had left the coffee shop last, but Tim can’t bring himself to say no again.  
  
“So?” Tim’s startled by the baritone, he’s forgotten completely about the older Jason behind him, “I’m twenty three now. Will you marry me?”  
  
“I said I’d think about it when you’re twenty five,” is what comes tumbling out of his mouth.   
  
Tim hears a crash and rustling of clothes behind him. He can only stare at the pile of clothes and the broken pieces of what used to be a coffee mug.   
  
“That –that –” He had seen that a few days ago, when he met that little wandering child. He takes a deep breath and straightens. “So. That was you.”  
  
“Yeah, wasn’t I adorable?”  
  
“And that fifteen year old kid that I always find staring at my ass?”  
  
“I admit I didn’t have much self-control as a teen,” Jason admits, a scornful smile tugging his lips.   
  
“What’s with all the marriage proposals?”  
  
Jason has the decency to look embarrassed.  
  
“Well, there was this really pretty stranger who was nice to me when I was scared and alone the first time I time traveled. Then I met him again and he remembered me and he made this great hot chocolate –it just seemed like a good idea.”   
  
“So. You’ve what? Spent your entire life stalking the last two months of my life?”  
  
“I don’t exactly control where or when I go… but I’ve always been ecstatic to see you.”  
  
Tim eyes Jason carefully. “Are you time traveling again?”  
  
“No, this is me, in the proper time. I don’t slip out of time as often anymore.”  
  
“Are you going to kill me in my sleep?”  
  
Jason blinks at him, startled. “No. Why would I?”  
  
“Just checking, because it turns out you  _are_  a creepy stalker of sorts.” He puts the pieces of the mug in the trash can and wonders why Alfred hadn’t come running out of the backroom when he heard the crash. “How about dating first before you start proposing?”  
  
“Sure, I can do that.”

**Author's Note:**

> I had a series of very unfortunate events happen on Tim's birthday. It was obviously a sign to write this fic.
> 
> Happy birthday, Timothy Jackson Drake!


End file.
